


Privacy of Storm

by mistyzeo



Series: Holiday Ficlets 2010 [12]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-23
Updated: 2011-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 04:03:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyzeo/pseuds/mistyzeo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>not-ficlet for <a href="http://akintay.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://akintay.livejournal.com/"><b>akintay</b></a>, <a href="http://goingxmissing.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://goingxmissing.livejournal.com/"><b>goingxmissing</b></a>, and <a href="http://dugindeep.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://dugindeep.livejournal.com/"><b>dugindeep</b></a>, who for my christmas-cards-fic-offer all wanted something to do with snow.  since i have more than enough of it right now, i wrote one big fic instead of three smaller ones.  i even titled it.SNOWWWW.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Privacy of Storm

It snows the first day of filming after the hiatus. They put up with it for a few hours, working inside the studio, doing interiors and voice work, but Jared keeps sneaking peeks out the window to catch a glimpse of the snow falling. It's light and fluffy and coming down fast, blanketing the cars in the parking lot and some of the nearby outdoor set pieces. The guys are working to get tarps up and cover everything, and it's distracting.

Finally the director decides there isn't much else to do without access to the outdoors, so he sends everyone home while it's still light out. The drive home is slow and careful, windshield wipers going like crazy, snow still falling with determination, and finally Jensen is climbing out in front of Jared and taking a moment to appreciate their snow-covered front lawn.

Jared hasn't had time to get really cold yet, but he crowds Jensen at the door and bundles him inside like he's got an agenda. He sort of does, actually– the dogs are already on their feet and scampering, as well as big dogs can do, towards the front hall by the time Jensen unlocks the door. Jared follows him in and gives them both a hello scritch, and then grabs the leashes off the wall.

"Wanna come walk?" he asks, loud enough for Jensen to hear him in the kitchen, and Jensen makes a noise of affirmation. Jared hears the cupboards banging and then Jensen reappears with a snack in hand. He rolls his eyes and gives one of the granola bars up when Jared makes grabby hands, and then follows him out the door again.

The dogs spend thee point two seconds sniffing the snow on the ground before deciding that it's safe to touch and bounding down the sidewalk. Jared holds the leashes limp in his hand and munches on the granola bar, snow falling on his head and hands and shoulders and dogs.

Jensen heads towards the park, out of habit, so Jared and the dogs follow him. Sadie isn't quite sure what to do with all the snow, and she keeps stopping to sniff and inspect every snow-covered bush and bump and fire hydrant. Harley runs back and forth across the sidewalk, jumping in the little piles of snow that their neighbors have swept off the path, ruining all the anonymous hard work.

Wrapped in a scarf his mother knit, Jensen's face is barely visible, but snowflakes are catching in his hair and eyelashes, and the tips of his ears are pink with cold. He has his hands jammed down in the pockets of his jacket and his shoulders drawn up to his ears, and Jared can't quite help putting his arm around him and tugging him close. Jensen acquiesces with a grunt, sliding neatly into the space against Jared's body, and he takes one hand out of his pocket to wrap it around Jared's middle.

The park is empty when they get there, just the dogs frolicking in the snow, their paws no doubt chilly already, and the whole street is quiet. Jared loves it when it gets like this– silent and still, like the whole world's inside where it's warm, watching the snow fall.

Sadie and Harley get tired of it pretty quick, snow in their fur and between their toes. Jensen shuffles his feet and bares green grass behind him as he walks, and when Jared whistles for the dogs they come at the first call.

It's still snowing, flakes gathering quickly and heavily on the ground, sticking to Jensen's scarf and Jared's coat. Jared sticks out his tongue and tries to catch them, missing one after another. He aims for the big ones, mouth open, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Jensen pointedly ignoring him. Jensen's mouth and nose are tucked down into the folds of his scarf, but Jared can see the crinkles around his eyes that mean he's smiling. He elbows Jensen in the side, almost knocking him off the sidewalk, and Jensen punches him in the arm in retaliation. At least he still knows what fun is.

It takes longer than it seems it should to get back to the house, and by the time Jensen's unlocking the door again Jared can feel the cold creeping up his spine. The dogs make a dash for the kitchen and Jared can hear the scuffle over the water bowl, the food bowl, and then the blanket by the radiator.

Jensen's unwrapping his scarf from his face, shaking the snow out on the floor. "We should sweep the walk," he says.

Jared narrows his eyes. "You say that like _I_ should sweep the walk."

"I'm sorry," Jensen says, grinning, "did I say 'we'?"

"Asshole," Jared says, giving him a little shove, but he digs in the closet for the broom and heads back out into the cold.

Ten minutes later, upon his shivering, bitching, hand-wringing return to the house, Jensen has a fire started in the fireplace and hot chocolate waiting. He's not as much of an asshole as Jared claims, and he gives Jared a warm, slow kiss while Jared tries to take off his coat.

"C'mere," he says, sitting on the couch and slinging his arm across the back, offering the space to Jared. Jared toes off his boots– the cuffs of his pants are cold and damp– and sits, propping his feet on the coffee table. Jensen has added a layer or two, and now he's wearing a soft sweater that Jared gave him one year for Christmas, maybe, and sweatpants. Jared leans against him, presses his cheek to Jensen's shoulder, rubs his cold nose against Jensen's collarbone. Jensen squirms and pushes his head away with his forehead, and then kisses him again.

"Couple hours to kill," Jared murmurs, half-listening for the dogs to settle down. He can hear toe nails clacking on the kitchen floor, and Harley making that snuffling, wheezing noise he makes when Sadie's being particularly stubborn and hogging the bed.

"Wanna watch a movie?" Jensen asks, but his voice is quiet and he sounds kind of sleepy, so Jared shakes his head and shifts so his head is more pillowed on Jensen's chest. Jensen runs a warm hand through his hair, still a little damp from the snow, and Jared closes his eyes and listens to the fire.

He wakes up again a little later, warm under a blanket Jensen must have pulled over his shoulders, and the fire is still going, albeit a little reluctantly. It needs more wood. Jared eases out of Jensen's grasp carefully to tend to it, and when he turns back Jensen is still asleep. His head is tipped back against the cushions and his mouth is half open, his whole body relaxed. When Jared climbs back onto the sofa and tries to insinuate himself back into Jensen's arms Jensen shifts, sighs, but doesn't wake.

Jared pulls the blanket around himself again and tucks one arm behind Jensen's back. The other goes around Jensen's waist, Jared's hand resting on his hip, and he puts his head on Jensen's shoulder and stares at the fire for a bit. The house is quiet, the dogs no doubt either settled in the kitchen or upstairs in the bedroom where they're not supposed to be.

He finds himself rubbing circles on Jensen's belly, the sweater soft under his fingertips and Jensen giving off more heat than the fire. Jared's hand wanders, smoothing over the curve of Jensen's hip, the lean line of his thigh. Without thinking he brushes his fingers over the soft bulge of Jensen's cock in his sweatpants, and Jensen shifts again, knees spreading apart to give him room. Jared pauses, thumb resting just under the hem of Jensen's shirt, against bare skin, his palm on Jensen's thigh. He gives it a moment's thought, and then decides Jensen won't mind, and if he does he'll say something.

Jared tips his head up and presses his lips to the bared line of Jensen's throat, very gently, and slides his hand down again to cup him through his pants. He's still soft but Jared can feel him begin to respond almost immediately, swelling under his fingers. He rubs his other hand in a little circle on Jensen's back and plants another kiss to his neck, fondling him carefully.

Jensen starts to harden, cock fattening and thickening under Jared's ministrations. He shifts and spreads his knees, and Jared's hand fits even better between his thighs, snug against the growing bulge of his dick. Jared can feel the same warmth rising low in his belly. He wants to see how far he can get Jensen before he wakes up– if he can get Jensen’s pants down and his dick in his mouth before Jensen notices. His mouth waters at the thought, and he stifles a little moan.

Kneading gently, Jared works Jensen through his sweats, rubbing his thumb over the head of his hardening cock and stroking his fingers along the shaft. Everything feels muted– the dark window with the snow gathering on the sill, the quietly crackling fire, the softness of Jensen’s pants contrasted with the hardness of his erection. Jensen murmurs and his eyelids flutter, and Jared goes still for a second.

But Jensen doesn’t open his eyes, just squirms down into the couch so he’s sprawled wide, legs spread, knee bumping Jared’s, his arm across the back of the couch. Jared fits himself against him, tucking his shoulder under Jensen’s, his face against Jensen’s chest, his eyes fixed on his hand moving slowly between Jensen’s thighs.

The head of his cock is getting wet, leaving a little damp spot on his sweats, and Jared confirms with a quick stroke down his leg that Jensen isn’t wearing anything underneath. He wets his lips in anticipation, working to keep his breathing steady. He can smell Jensen’s growing arousal, and his own dick is stiff and ready in his jeans. He almost shifts to press it against Jensen’s leg, but that might be too obvious. Instead, he lets go of Jensen’s cock and slides his hand up under his sweater and down into the waistband of his sweats.

It’s damp and hot inside, and Jensen’s cock twitches eagerly at the first touch of Jared’s fingers. Jensen makes a noise, almost a sigh and not quite a moan, and Jared mouths at his neck, suddenly wishing Jensen would wake up. Now he wants to be kissing him, licking into his mouth while he strokes Jensen’s cock, rubs his thumb over the head like that, hear the proper noise he makes when Jared strokes a fingertip against the soft skin of his balls.

He squeezes Jensen’s cock a little tighter, draws it up so the fat, wet head pokes out above the waistband and he can get a better grip. It’s thick and hot in his hand, skin smooth and dry and perfect, and he gives it a firmer stroke, watching the bead of precome that wells from the slit. Jared dips his thumb in it and wants to lick it off, but that would mean too much movement, so he settles for rubbing it into Jensen’s skin and watching and feeling the way his cock jumps.

Jensen wakes with a short, sharp inhale, and then he lets the breath out on a groan.

“Jesus, Jared,” he says, fingers clenching in the sofa cushions. Jared looks up and Jensen kisses him, a little groggy but lacking almost none of his usual game, and Jared moans in satisfaction.

“Lemme suck you,” Jared says a moment later, when Jensen has brought his hand to the back of Jared’s neck, and has licked his way to an updated map of the inside of Jared’s mouth. In his hand, Jensen’s cock twitches again, and Jensen bites Jared’s lower lip playfully. But he tightens his grip on the back of Jared’s neck and his other hand finds its way to Jared’s belt.

“Not right now,” he says, voice low, “as appealing as you and your mouth are. Just. Stay here? I kind of like this.”

“‘Kay,” Jared replies. He lets go for a moment to squirm closer, get his hips up against Jensen’s side, his arm under Jensen’s back, his mouth against Jensen’s mouth. Jensen’s warm and pliant and tightens his arm around Jared’s shoulder, and his hand slips easily under fly of Jared’s pants.

His cock is so sensitive that the first touch of Jensen’s fingers has him gasping, and Jensen laughs against his lips and gives him a squeeze. He pulls out to fumble Jared’s pants open, and then they’re practically skin on skin, Jared’s dick against Jensen’s bare hip and Jensen’s cock in his hand. There isn’t much leverage against the couch the way they’re tangled together to really get any friction between them, but the feeling of Jensen’s warm hand is more than enough.

The fire pops loudly and the log inside cracks in half, sending up a shower of sparks. Jensen jumps, startled, and Jared sucks the edge of his jaw. He tips his head back and drags his fingers up the length of Jared’s cock, and Jared needs more.

“C’mon,” he whispers, changing his grip around Jensen’s cock and starting to jerk him fast and intent. Jensen’s hips flex, pushing up into his hand even as he’s pinned under Jared’s weight. He’s leaking like crazy and Jared’s hand is slick with it, sliding easily as Jensen pants against his temple.

“Fuckin’—” Jensen says, trying to match Jared’s rhythm but already too far gone to manage it. Jared bites at his earlobe and throat, feeling Jensen’s dick swell in his hand, and then Jensen gives a sharp little cry and comes, pulsing and shuddering.

Jared jerks him through it, slowing down the way Jensen likes, drawing it out. Jensen trembles and gasps, fingers clenching on the back of Jared’s neck, and Jared ignores the smear of come on his shirt, Jensen’s sweatshirt, and probably the edge of the blanket.

Finally Jensen regains enough brainpower to push Jared off a little and return the attention. His face is pink and his stomach is sticky with come, but his hands are firm and strong and everything Jared needs. Just watching him, feeling him, has Jared so wound up he could burst, and it doesn’t take long before he’s humping into Jensen’s fist and groaning against his neck as he comes.

Jensen fumbles for the innocent box of tissues on the side-table behind him, and he wipes Jared off perfunctorily before dragging his sweatpants back up and wrestling Jared into position beside him. Jared doesn’t give up residence under Jensen’s t-shirt and sweater, though, palm spread possessively across his abdomen, and Jensen presses kisses to his temple and cheek before finding his way to Jared’s mouth.

It’s stopped snowing by the time they disentangle and find their way to the kitchen for something like dinner. Jared lets the dogs out again and they go through the whole song-and-dance about discovering the snow on the ground again before they dash off to pee. Jensen heats up canned soup, and once the dogs are in and the soup is hot he directs Jared back to the sofa in front of the fire to eat.

After, Jared tucks himself into Jensen’s side and tries to absorb all his body heat while Jensen watches the news. It’s not quite a snow day, he thinks, but it’ll certainly do.

+++


End file.
